


If the Sky Keeps Falling and the Night Keeps Calling

by DotyTakeThisDown



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Scars, Spoilers, post-episode 129
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 16:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DotyTakeThisDown/pseuds/DotyTakeThisDown
Summary: **Spoilers up to E129**Caleb and Essek reunite in Eiselcross once more.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 7
Kudos: 126





	If the Sky Keeps Falling and the Night Keeps Calling

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this pre-E124 as a first reunion fic but then I wasn't able to revise it in time. Then shit kept happening and giving me Caleb feels and I kept having new ideas with each episode that I wanted to incorporate. It's very -throws Caleb feelings everywhere- self-indulgent. 
> 
> Not betaed because my beta is three episodes behind and slowly killing me inside. 
> 
> The title is from "Right Here, With You" by David Cook. 
> 
> CW: Discussion of traumatic events (past and recent) is very brief.

Caleb’s feet crunch down through the layers of snow. He lets out a sigh of relief as he takes in their—familiar—surroundings, the spires disguising Essek’s encampment no more than an hour’s walk in the distance. They might be about to walk into danger for the last time, but at least they haven’t landed on another continent or been turned inside out for their trouble.

“We should let Essek know we’re coming,” Clay says, as the Mighty Nein gets their bearings in Eiselcross once more.

“On it.” Jester’s forehead pinches. “Hey, Essek, it’s me, Jester. We’re back in Eiselcross. We’ll be there to see you soon. You’re not going to believe all the crazy shit—“

“He’s not going to hear any more,” Fjord says tiredly, pulling his coat tighter around him.

Jester holds a hand up to silence him, her head tilted like she’s listening for something far away. She _is_ listening to something far away. “He says that he’s totally excited to see us, especially you Caleb.”

“I’m sure he is,” Caleb says, starting off into the snow towards the spires. “Come on.”

Fjord pulls out his symbol from the Bright Queen but there’s no need—the guards recognize them all as they arrive and stand down with only a minimum of posturing. It doesn’t take much for Fjord to find out that Essek is at home and convince them that they’re not in need of an escort.

“I miss the beach,” Beau grumbles under her breath as they tramp their way through the cold to Essek’s door.

Clay knocks, quick and polite, and it’s only seconds before it opens. Caleb feels his breath catch in his throat before he can stop it. Essek offers them a tight smile that disappears as he takes in their ashen faces.

“You’d better come in,” he says, glancing quickly up and down the street. “Jester said you’ve encountered some, well, crazy shit?”

“You wouldn’t believe what we’ve been through to get here,” Fjord says, shaking the loose snow from his coat.

“Some might call it _Hell_ ,” Beau says, dropping herself down onto a chair.

“You don’t mean—”

“She doesn’t,” Caleb interrupts, shoving his wand into the floor. “But we shouldn’t talk here and I need to give you a gift.”

Essek’s eyebrows rise. “A gift?”

“You’ll see.”

There’s only silence as Caleb finishes casting and the door appears. Essek lingers outside like he isn’t sure he’s welcome, but Caleb gestures toward the door. “Come on. You have a room too.”

“I—I do?” Essek steps through the entrance and it closes behind him. His eyes are wide as he circles the hall, drinking in the panes of stained glass.

“What do you think?” Jester asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s—” Essek turns away from the dunamancy window. His mouth opens again but nothing comes out.

“Are you _speechless?_ ” Jester teases.

“Wait until you see the rest of it,” Caleb says, his heart thundering in his throat. He hasn’t been this nervous for anyone to see the Tower since he first opened the door for the Nein.

“The—the rest of it?”

“Oh yes.” Veth beams, poking Caleb with her elbow as she passes by. “It’s Widogast’s Nascent Nine-sided Tower.”

“Yes, yes, you can do the grand tour later,” Fjord says, already at the base of the stairs. “We need to plan for tomorrow.”

“Go on ahead,” Caleb says, motioning the others toward the stairs as he pulls the necklace out of his pouch. “Order dinner for us. We still need to—”

Fjord nods and makes his way up, the others following behind. Jester lingers halfway across the room, twisting her gloves in her hands.

“I need you to put this on,” Caleb says, his smile deeply apologetic as he steps up to Essek. “And you can’t ask why. I promise we’ll explain.”

“Oh, I—”Essek stares at it like it might turn into a snake at any moment.

“It’ll protect you from scrying. We all have one.” Caleb reaches into his coat and pulls his out from underneath, warmed by his skin.

The tips of Essek’s ears turn purple as he takes the chain and pulls it over his head. It rests against his chest, just above his heart. “Thank you.”

“It takes some time,” Jester says, making them both jump, “before it starts working. We should eat and then we’ll tell you everything.”

“She’s right.” Caleb takes a step forward and Essek follows along as they make their way up the stairs and into the central column. “Just think _up_ and you’ll go up.”

Essek’s lips curl into the first real smile that Caleb has seen from him in what feels like an age. His feet lift from the ground. “You mean like this?”

“I knew you’d be a natural.” Caleb leads the way, up through the great hall and the salon. Essek falls behind, his eyes lingering with hunger on the books surrounding them. “Don’t worry,” Caleb calls down to him, “you can come back on your own.”

By the time they reach the others in the kitchen, they’re well tucked into their usual eclectic buffet. “If you want anything,” Caleb tells Essek as he settles into his usual seat, “just ask the cats.”

“Cats?”

“Cats,” Yasha says, pointing at one of the fae creatures before he disappears into one of the passages.

“Did you have any luck with your allies?” Essek asks, his eyes darting between each of them as though he’s counting to see if there are any extras. He pokes his fork into a pancake and brings it to his plate.

“Well—” Veth begins.

Beau raises a hand and looks to Fjord. “Is anyone listening?”

Fjord reaches back away from the table, sword appearing in his hand. His eyes scan their surroundings carefully and he shakes his head. “All clear.”

“I’m afraid,” Clay says, “that no one is coming to our aid.”

“But,” Jester interjects, “they did us some some super cool stuff!”

Essek raises an eyebrow. Caleb hands over Allura’s staff and Essek looks like his head might burst. He touches it from end to end, examining it with blazing eyes, and his fingers linger on it as he hands it back.

“There’s more,” Jester sing-songs and they show off the scepter, the arcane field generators, and the Holy Avenger.

“How do you feel about our chances?” Essek asks, when they’re finished.

Fjord shrugs one shoulder. “We’re as prepared as we’re going to get.”

When Caleb’s internal clock clicks off an hour since Essek put on the necklace, he catches his eye and says, “I’m sorry. You should know that we stole these necklaces from Trent’s stache. He’s—he _was_ on our tail.”

“Was?” Essek’s eyes flicker from Caleb to Fjord to Clay without settling for more than a moment.

“We believe we’ve lost him,” Clay says gently. “At least for now.”

“He—” Veth pauses, shaking her head. Her thumb rubs over her left ring finger. “It wasn’t worth it, we know that now.”

Essek drops his head into his hands, rubbing at his cheeks. When he looks up, it’s to meet and hold Caleb’s gaze. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Caleb says, in a voice that is anything but. “Trent isn’t going to matter if we can’t stop the Tomb Takers.”

Essek nods, rotating a mug of whiskey hot chocolate in quarter turns. “Is it time?”

“Yes,” Clay says. “If you’re ready.”

***

“Would you like to see your room?” Caleb asks, once plans have been made and the others have dispersed for the night.

“Okay.”

Caleb leads the way back to the central column and they work their way up to the fifth floor bedrooms.

“This,” he says, grabbing the doorknob of the guest room, “is yours tonight.”

Essek exhales softly as he steps inside, his lips parted in surprise. The ceiling is a night sky, showing the stars as they would be above Rosohna. The room is all sweeping curtains and solid furniture, in blue and silver. It’s mostly of Dynasty design, with a few Zemnian touches. The usual fireplace is there, the mantle lined with tiny silver beacon replicas. It’s flanked by two armchairs and an end table holding only four books.

The stained glass depicts a beacon surrounded by a starry sky. At the bottom is an abstract figure of a man with red hair holding a smaller beacon aloft.

Essek wanders the room, along with the attached bedchamber, and pauses at the end table. His eyes widen as he flips open the first book and takes in the fact that there are actual words inside of it.

“I didn’t—” He closes the book and looks back at the stained glass. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’ve been working on this Tower for a long time,” Caleb says, quietly. Essek’s shoulders are still stiff as though, even here in a room designed just for him and with the protection of the necklace, he doesn’t feel like he can relax. “I can’t change anything once we’re all inside, but if there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable next time—”

“Oh, Caleb.” Essek’s voice is soft around his name with a little hitch in the middle, like he’s not sure he’s allowed it anymore. “It’s perfect.”

“Good, good.” Caleb turns to go, hesitating in the doorway. He glances back as Essek stops at the base of the stained glass window and trails his fingers over glass-Caleb’s hair. “Do you want to see the rest of it?”

“There’s more?”

“This is a _tower_. You didn’t think I stopped at five floors, did you?” Caleb presses onward to the central column, floating upward. He doesn’t need to look back to know that Essek is following him.

“This is my room,” Caleb says, pushing open the door and indicating the rather plain contents. He pretends not to notice that his own bed is slightly larger than usual. Not that he intends to need a larger-than-usual bed. It might’ve been an accident.

“Are all the books in the library able to be read?” Essek asks, running his fingers down the spines on Caleb’s end table.

“I think so. Most of them.” Caleb summons Frumpkin. “Tea?”

“Okay,” Essek says.

“Two cups of tea, please.” Caleb settles down in an armchair as Frumpkin disappears, no doubt to pass the order along to one of the others. Essek sits opposite, perching like he’s afraid to touch the chair in case he falls straight through it. Within moments, two cats appear with two identical steaming mugs of tea.

“Going from the fire plane to Zadash to here,” Caleb almost whispers. “Talk about a shock.”

“Caleb,” Essek says, “it’s okay, if you’re not all right.”

Caleb looks up to meet Essek’s eyes and the truth spills out of him all at once. It’s not his intention but it feels easy, letting his secrets loose when he hasn’t had time with the Mighty Nein, when he hasn’t felt like he _can_ because he’s the cause of their distress. Maybe it’s the linger of chamomile tea in his mouth, or the warmth of the fire, or the way Essek is looking at him without expectation.

“I’m not,” he says, the words broken as they fall from his lips. “I’m not okay at all.”

He talks about the sanatorium, about Trent, about Astrid and Eadwulf, about placing Marion and Luc and Yeza in danger first from Trent and then in the Fire Plane, about leading the monsters to Yussa’s and Wentworth’s doorstep and leaving them to fend for themselves. Tears brim in his eyes but he pushes them away. He doesn’t deserve to cry, not when all of this is his fucking fault.

“And they’re not the only ones I’ve put in harm’s way,” Caleb says, regret flashing through the guilt that he’s carried in his chest since they first fled the sanatorium. “I killed people, guards at the sanatorium. I didn’t need to—I _wanted_ to. I wanted to make them hurt.”

“Caleb—”

“I used dunamancy to do it, and Trent recognized the signs. He sent me messages, after we escaped. He suspects that I learned from you.”

A full-body shudder runs through Essek. “Did you summon an echo?”

“A gravity sinkhole.”

“Oh.” Essek startles, his brow furrowing. “I never taught you that.”

“Not…not intentionally.” Caleb takes a slow sip of tea. “You used it, that day with the Scourger. It took a while but I worked out the mechanics on my own.”

“You taught yourself a spell that you saw used _once_ , when you were dying.”

“Yes.”

Essek’s face races through expressions almost too fast to register. When he settles, it’s with something dark and heated in his eyes. “Caleb Widogast. You’re always full of surprises.”

“I’m sorry I put you in more danger. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences.”

“You didn’t put me in any more danger than that I’ve already caused myself.” Essek shifts in his chair, settling into a more comfortable position. “If I had never met Trent Ikithon, he wouldn’t be aware of me. You don’t get to shoulder all the blame, not in this.”

“Easier said than done,” Caleb mumbles.

“That’s life, I think, for us.” Essek tilts his head, his hair falling almost into his eyes. “Do you remember what you said to me, that day on your ship?”

“That you could choose to do something and leave the world better than it was before?” Caleb stares into his mug. “I’m doing a terrible job of following my own advice at the moment.”

“You’re trying to save the world from being ripped apart by an entity in the Astral Sea, but no, that’s not what I was referring to. You told me that I wasn’t born with venom in my veins, and neither were you. Trent taught you that, it’s what he does.”

“How much do you know, about Trent’s activities?”

“Not much.” Essek swirls his tea. “But enough.”

Caleb rolls up one of his sleeves, baring the old scars on his arm. “While we were at the sanatorium, Veth couldn’t resist stealing something else. Crystals, that Trent used underneath our skin, to give us extra power. That wasn’t even the worst of his manipulation.”

“I have—” Essek pauses, his eyes still fixed on Caleb’s forearm. “—an inkling.”

“He poisons everything he touches.” Caleb sets his tea aside and stands, dropping his coat to the floor. “I need to show you something else. I _want_ to.”

Essek opens his mouth to say something, halting when Caleb rolls up his sleeve to bare the eye on his shoulder. He leans forward, half-rising from the chair for a better look. “What is it?”

Caleb explains Lucien’s book, the dream, the voices saying _Welcome_ in unison. Essek doesn’t say anything, only stands up and crosses the floor to stand beside him. “May I?” he says.

Caleb nods in response. Essek pushes his sleeve up and runs his fingers over the eye. Caleb shivers even though he can’t feel it at all. “It doesn’t feel like a part of me,” Caleb says, “not really. There’s no sensation.”

“What have you tried?”

“Greater Restoration.” Caleb tries to ignore the gentle strokes of Essek’s fingers. “Dispel Magic. Acid.”

“Acid?”

“On Beau’s hand. Doesn’t touch it.”

Essek murmurs a few words and makes a familiar hand motion. His eyes flash with annoyance when nothing happens. “It was worth a try.”

“How powerful was it?”

Essek’s mouth flattens into a line. He pulls down Caleb’s sleeve before turning to his own chair. It’s only when he’s settled again that he says, “As powerful as I am.”

“I think we’re stuck with them.”

Essek makes a humming noise, still frowning. “I know you have no reason to trust me but I want to earn it again.”

“I do trust you,” Caleb lies.

“No, you don’t, and you shouldn’t. Not yet.”

“Essek.” Caleb waits until he meets his eyes. “I don’t want you to risk yourself out there. Not for us. Not for me.”

“I’m coming to help, whatever it takes,” Essek says, looking away. “I want to help.”

Caleb pauses for a long moment, everything he wants to say— _I don_ _’t want anyone else to get hurt for me I don’t want to watch you die I’m not worth your life—_ unmoving on his tongue. At last, he says, “Do you want to see the rest of the tower?”

“If you’d like.” Essek sets his mug on the floor. “Nine sides. Does it also have nine floors?”

“Why don’t we find out?” Caleb gets to his feet and takes him back out to the column. “ _Fort, doch nicht vergessen_.”

Essek tilts his head at him as the iris opens above them but he doesn’t ask and Caleb doesn’t translate. They just float up to the eighth floor and land surrounded by the doors of Caleb’s past.

“These are my memories,” Caleb says. “Everything I can’t afford to forget.”

“Good or bad?” Essek asks, pausing to take in the nine doors around them.

“Yes.” Caleb keeps floating up, and up, until they’re standing on the ninth and final floor. “And this is my future.”

“Oh,” Essek says, staring at the refracted version of himself tucked among the stars. “It’s a Beacon.”

“I’ve wanted to show it to you,” Caleb confessed, “ever since I came up with the idea.”

“Thank you,” Essek says, and it feels like so much more. He tilts his head back, eyes half-closed as he looks up at his possible futures.

“Before we fought the Tomb Takers, on the way here last time, Caduceus asked Melora if we could trust you.”

A shadow passes over Essek’s face and he looks down in favor of the floor. “And you came to me anyway.”

“No, that’s not—” Caleb shakes his head as he takes a step forward. Dozens of Calebs and Esseks face each other around him, dozens of possibilities cast into the stars. “Caduceus said it was like looking at a guiding star and feeling a sense of safety and familiarity.”

“Oh.”

“I do want to trust you, but I did once and you betrayed us. I don’t want to feel like that again.”

“I promise, I won’t—” Essek’s voice is edged in desperation, hand fidgeting at his side.

“If I thought you would,” Caleb says, darkness in his tone as he looks at their echoes, “I wouldn’t have brought you here.”

Essek circles the room, watching the reflected versions of himself disappearing along their paths. If he sees anything more, he doesn’t let on.

“Tomorrow, we’re going after the Tomb Takers,” Caleb says, watching Essek and feeling like this moment, this present, is the only future that matters. “After that—maybe the world will cease to exist as we know it. Maybe we’ll all be dead. Maybe we’ll survive and go back home.”

Essek turns around to find Caleb standing directly in front of him. “We’re going to stop them.”

“All I know for sure is that I’m tired of having regrets.”

“I want to kiss you,” Essek says, all in a rush, and then turns away to find that he can’t hide his face in a room full of reflections.

Caleb catches him by the shoulder and turns him around. “Essek.”

“I didn’t mean to say that. I think about it all the time, it’s frankly annoying.” The tips of his ears are rapidly turning purple.

“I want to kiss you too,” Caleb says, standing on his toes. Essek leans down to meet him halfway. Their lips meet, surrounded by stars and possibilities.

Caleb lets himself melt into it, lets himself live in the moment instead of the past or the future, lets himself have this one thing to keep. Essek’s lips are softer than he imagined, more tentative. When Caleb flicks his tongue over his bottom lip and Essek opens his mouth, he tastes faintly of chamomile.

When they pull apart, Caleb’s every breath shudders from his lungs. He rests their foreheads together and closes his eyes.

“What happens now?” Essek asks, the words breathed against his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Caleb admits. He tilts his head to the side, just enough to catch a glimpse of a future-Caleb and a future-Essek walking hand-in-hand into whatever comes next for them.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter [@DotyTakeItDown](https://twitter.com/DotyTakeItDown) where I mostly scream about the latest episode of Critical Role.


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